Perfect
by Guinevere McAdam
Summary: A cute little Katie/Tony one shot fic. Dedicated to Anne.


**A/N- hey lovely readers! I know a lot of you probably would love an update to one of my existing stories, but I've been busy with work and life, as happens from time to time. For now, here is a cute little one shot fic, dedicated to the lovely Anne. You'll forever be the Effy and Katie to my Tony, Emily, and Karen. 3 Katony forever!**

"You know, your sister hit me in the head with a rock once."

They're on the couch of her slightly cramped flat in London, passing a nearly empty bottle of vodka back and forth between them at a leisurely pace, when the words spill out of her mouth. She hadn't intended to bring it up, but somewhere along the course of the night she had lost her filter entirely. She suspects the combination of good spliff and better vodka may have had a hand in it. He looks up at her with those eerie blue Stonem eyes, eyes that she hasn't been able to read for the entire six months that they've been discreetly seeing each other, and bless this man, he actually chuckles.

"That was you? Well, since your father is a fitness oriented bloke, I can see why she had to use a rock."

The way the words smoothly escape his lips ruffles her feathers a bit, he's good at doing that but she's learned how to play his game. Snorting slightly, she sits up and readjusts her legs, which have been draped over his lap for a while now.

"It would have taken more if it hadn't been so bloody dark. The rock came out of, like, nowhere." She says, rolling her eyes before taking a long drink from the bottle. "Thank you for caring, by the way." She adds before passing it back, glaring what she hopes are daggers at him. He takes the bottle and responds with a noncommittal shrug.

"Seems like you came out of it okay. In case you've forgotten, I believe brain damage is something I know a bit about." He punctuates the sentence with a sardonic smile, which should probably infuriate her but instead makes her laugh outright.

"And yet you're still as much of a twat as ever."

He pretends to look hurt at her reply, but instead takes a hearty drink, and she takes a brief moment to let the thought pass through her mind, though she hasn't dared to say the words aloud.

 _Dear god, I think I might actually love this man._

Who could blame her, really? She didn't believe in things like fate, but had no other explanation as to how she had wound up alone in a crowded bar on an absolute whim, and had gone to get a drink only to have this positively ravishing stranger wander up and declare that she was drinking on his tab for the night. Being Katie Fucking Fitch, of course an argument ensued. She was a grown woman, after all, and could at least buy a few of her own drinks, but his cool, measured gaze had never once left her face for the duration of her ranting. Not even to stare at her tits, which were looking rightly fabulous.

It was then, he let one sentence escape his lips, that diffused any and all urges that she'd had to argue.

"I agree completely, you can absolutely pay for your own drinks, but should you honestly have to in a place like this?"

After that exchange, he'd left her alone for a bit, and she'd chatted up a few men. None of them had interested her nearly as much as the man casually laughing with a group of friends by the stage. After graciously paying for her drinks, she'd watched him mill around for a bit before losing sight of him altogether. Now that Johnny Whatshisface had buggered off with his gin and tonic, the stranger's eyes were suddenly glued to hers. Before she knew it, they were on the dance floor, no space between their flesh save for the clothes that they were wearing.

Somewhere along the course of the night she'd learned his name- Anthony. He tried to call her Katherine after she made a remark about his first name sounding pretentious. She pretended to hate it but secretly enjoyed the way that every syllable rolled off of his tongue. They talked long into the night, drinking endlessly- Cosmo for her, martini for him and enjoying one another's company.

The rest of that night was a blur, but when she awoke naked in her own bed and he was still sleeping soundly beside her she knew that something spectacular had happened. For the entirety of her first year in London, up until that point, she had yet to deem a man worthy enough to enter her flat.

Yes, okay, the fact that he was a Stonem had been a hurdle, but he wasn't responsible for his sisters' actions any more than she was for Emilys'. It had taken a while to realize that, but as she brings herself back into the present an, eyeing the slow smile that had made its way across his face as she'd lost herself in thought, Katie realizes hat she wouldn't change a thing.

"What're you thinking about?" His voice breaks the silence abruptly, jarring her the rest of the way into the real world, and she smirks.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

He grins and shifts himself towards her, so that their faces are inches away.

"I find out everything eventually, Katie Fitch. But there will be plenty of time to uncover your secrets."

She closes the distance between them and kisses him sweetly. His mouth tastes vaguely like spliff, tobacco, and vodka. She loves it. Loves him.

"Good luck with that, Anthony." She whispers. He smiles devilishly.

It's perfect.


End file.
